


The falling of hubris

by Eye_of_Purgatory



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eye_of_Purgatory/pseuds/Eye_of_Purgatory
Summary: Kassandra, Alexios, and Stentor have to deal with the aftermath of the main story as a family, each overcoming what tears them apart.
Relationships: Alexios & Kassandra (Assassin's Creed), Alexios & Stentor (Assassin's Creed), Barnabas & Kassandra (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra & Phoibe (Assassin's Creed), Kassandra & Stentor (Assassin's Creed)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 54





	1. Arguing

“I would have beaten you in the fight If Pater hadn’t broken it up.” I hear from over my shoulder, feeling how Stentor is trying to be sneaky but failing. I can hear the heavier footsteps from behind Stentor. It’s early, and I can’t reason why the pair of them would be up at this hour. 

“Chaire.” Alexios rumbles in his deep voice, bringing back memories of Deimos that I try to ignore, Stentor falls to the floor out of shock. I continue polishing my countless weapons in the doorway trying to restrain the snicker, though Alexios does not, “Sister is not easily beaten, Stentor.”

“She is not my sister.” I can practically see his pouting face, “And I am stronger than you think. I am one of the finest spartan warriors! We should spar, right here right now!” Alexios laughs darkly.

“Is that some malakes brag?” Alexios asks, “Spartan warriors are mere children in a fight. They confronted me on the road, they fell like rabbits in a snare. More kept showing up, though they would do better to run back to mater. One would think that they would avoid piles of bodies, but they just kept at it.” I can almost hear the horrifying Deimos grin that he is wearing, one that pricles the hairs on the back of my neck even as I try not to react.

“I refuse to fight you Stentor, I refused before and It saved your life. And I’ll refuse again.” I feel the weight of the contract in my bag, It burns to be completed.

“Craven!” He shouts with a growl, “Just some petty misthios who should be killing wolves for Athenians. You have nothing on me!” He stomps around for a few moments. I have been forgotten. Good. That is how I prefer my battles to go.

“On the ladder of the world,” Alexios coos like as if talking to one devoid of wisdom, “There is Spartans” I can feel the teasing in the words, “at the bottom, then there is misthioses dear Brother, and at the very top is Me! D-Alexios himself!”

“You brag without honor, one good spartan could bring either of you down. Easy.” But his voice wavers, I look back down at the spear, looking through the reflection to see Alexios directing an intimidating stare.

“By your words you are not a good Spartan, as I clearly remember winning the fight last night.” Alexios’ words come out taunting, but so very prideful, like …. Like me to Phoibe.

“I was holding back!” Stentor is screaming, but I can’t bother to stop him, Alexios feels the same.

“Lies of a mere babe, why would one hold back in a fight. You must establish your fighting prowess by defeating the opponent swiftly and skillfully.” Such pride, the two of them, perhaps that is why I managed to fell the pair.

“Then why was I not dispatched skillfully and swiftly,” The arrogance brings up the faces of so many I have killed, their faces meld with stentor, though I try to forget my bloodiest days, “I was holding back, why were you not able to defeat me as promised.”

“Simple brother, I was holding myself back against a weak opponent in order to not injure you. Mater would not want me to injure you.” The rest goes unsaid, but I don’t know if they could ever go spoken.

“You are not my brother!” I try to suppress the rising feeling that screams at me to leave, I must be brave.

I speak up, but do not look back, “That is what they call children of the same pater, do they not?” their attention is called over to me, me as a forgotten entity.

“You are no family of mine.” Stentor growls, when I tilt the blade it catches as Alexios’ gaze darkens, the deimos eyes.

“That would be so easy for me to say back Stentor” I sigh, looking down with the heavy weight of their gazes on my back, 

“I could pretend I was never a spartan, like I did. I could say my only pater is Markos, I could say my only sibling is Phoibe.” I look at Ikaros, and he looks back yearning for a flight, I ask of zeus his sight, and it is given readily.

Over my own shoulder I see the faces of my brothers, Alexios’ stern and stoic, if not uncomfortable, though Stentor’s is disinterested. I continue, 

“That my only mother is Drucilla. Or I could say my brothers are my crewmates, and my pater is Barnabas.” I stop to let out a nostalgic chuckle, “The Markos is as well. But I won’t. You two are my brothers even if I am not your sister.”

“Of course elder Sister, we have our family.” Alexios smiles sadly, but so obviously glad that it wrenches my heart.

“Pater abandoned you two for a reason.” Stentor mumbles, “You are poor excuses for Spartans, bows and all.”

“I may be Spartan by blood, but I am still by nature Kephalloinian. The land of goat dung and rock bottoms.” I cock the head of Ikaros as I would in my husk and Alexios stares at it with open interest. I stare back. Everyone stays silent.

“Never underestimate an assassin with a bow.” I stand up without turning around, staring into my husk eyes as I would in youth, Alexios nods.

“Some excuse for an assassin, barging in like that with your,” Stentor grimaces as he places a hand protectively against his spear, “ _ collection _ of weapons.”

“I did just fine for you in Megaris.” I hold my arm out for Ikaros and whistle sharply, Ikaros rubs his head on my upper arm, “I have a contract to fulfill, Chaire.”

“When will you return?” Alexios asks, his eyes scream for me to not leave although I ignore it. I will go stir crazy if I stay around them too long.

“By the end of the day.” I walk away to the first tendrils of Apollo’s morning, the birds silence as I pass by. Faintly I can hear the arguing restart.


	2. Brothers worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kassandra returns with little intention of staying, not truly believing her brothers care.

I enter the room right before the start of the day, exhausted and bloody, but I won in the end. With a fat bag of drachma to prove it. The smells of a home barely remembered fill my nose, of metal and wine.

“Mater was worried about you.” I snap my upper body around to the corner, where Alexios sits with the candlelight illuminating his face. The flickers of warm light are sparse and bone chilling, he looks like a wolf in midnight Kefalonia.

“Just a little late is all.” I yawn, stretching my arms above me, then I limply fall down to the floor. I can’t help but note how ridiculous Alexios looks at this moment, in the corner looking at me with concern when his mind is etched in my mind with sadistic eyes. I want to forget and forgive, but some things I cannot shake from my mind. Letting my eyes fall shut I use Ikaros to focus on Alexios’ face, “Don’t worry about little old me.”

“Sister.” He seems to nearly snarl, but the words still hold a worried tint, “I will be worried when one as skilled as you is three days late.” He bites out, and suddenly I see the faint hints of bags under his eyes.

“Malaka! I was out for three days.” I shout unexpectedly, sitting up far too fast as my mind turns to darkness for a small moment. I thought It happened in the course of one very long afternoon, but the fact that they were able to capture me is all too concerning. Taking out soldiers in Athens is child's play after all.

“You must be careful, even Stentor was looking out for you when he went to work.” He throws me a small fruit, which I observe to be an apple, “Pater was sure you’d be back though.” He ends this with a small chuckle. My appetite rushes back with the abrupt knowledge that the wine I stole from the fort probably kept me from dying of thirst. No reason to tell him about that though, a worried soldier is a useless one.

“Perhaps Pater remembers what I did to the Athenians back in Megaris.” The tart apple juice runs over my teeth as I bite it, “And all the things I did for Stentor, the little malaka.” My snarl is far too uncontrolled, a remnant from a strange childhood fighting wolves most likely. Thoughts of Stentor snap me out of a tentatively good mood and right back into frustration, a scar pangs from one of the missions he sent me on. Malaka probably trying to kill me.

“Kassandra, you must be more careful. You have people that worry about you.” He says, yawning deep and loud, looking only the mildest bit under dressed in his sleeping clothes.

“I’m a misthios at heart little brother.” I force up a belly laugh in the way that almost makes me feel sick, “Every day is a close call till I fall through.” I stand up to the small stores of food we keep in the house, taking large bites out of a stale hunk of bread. The house servant Stentor wants to get would probably make living easier, but on nights like this I can’t say I wouldn’t accidentally kill. Years of almost sleepwalking as I scare off intruders is not easily waved.

“Kassandra.” Alexios growls and I tense, his form almost seems to flash to Deimos for a bit so starkly that I back away without realizing. The sad look on his face when he notices is one Phoebe would look at me with. Gods I need a drink.

“Alexios.” I say stressing the vowels in the name into a long drawl, “I’ve been doing this all my life, the mercenary life is my life.” I say, turning around to look for the wine that we keep somewhere, aiming to pledge myself to Dionysus so hard I forget past is a concept.

“Kassandra.” He states, far less aggressively and far more concerned. At this point I am still stumbling around the barely lit kitchen for wine, but pause.

“Alexios?” I breathe out, feeling childlike. But the feeling makes me want to strike something, to tear out my hair, to yell at Markos that he doesn’t have to treat me like a girl. Alexios doesn’t deserve me snapping at him though, but something still puts me right on that edge.

“I was Deimos all my life. That doesn’t mean I will keep doing it, I have a family now. I am a Spartan, and so are you.” He proclaims, loud enough that I am left to wonder how Pater isn’t stirring.

“I am not a gods damned spartan Alexios.” I snap, curling my fists as I try not to reach for my sword, wishing for the uncomplicated days where the conflict was Markos’ blunders. Feeling the calling to run away from the house and step onto the wonderful deck of the Adrestia.

“That's not what you said a few days ago.” Alexios says, standing up as I manage to find the wine, holding out a cup as to ask for some as well. I gladly pour us wine.

“I hadn’t spent much time in Sparta Alexios, do you know the feeling of being trapped in a box?” I explain, looking at my brother as he sips at the wine. Malaka probably doesn’t want to get drunk, but my intention is starkly opposite, Phoebe’s eyes etched in the back of my own.

He nods.

“Sparta is a box to me, I hate the…” I feel a growl force a way through my throat, “Sorry, I know you must have a harder time with this.” I say, looking into Alexios’ eyes before looking away to grab more food. My stomach is an endless pit I intend to fill.

“I try to forget. It has gotten easier, Stentor is still very.” We sit down on the chairs, Icarus sits down on the table as if he was a guest too. Alexios sits stilted and proper while I lounge like a backwater plebeian.

“Difficult?” I continue for him, watching as his eyes start to droop in a way that matches the relaxation of his body. 

“Yes.” He affirms, “But I can handle it. He isn’t too much of a malaka all of the time.” His words drift off as he rests his head against the table, his wine completely forgotten. I watch how his eyes close at the same time the sun decides to rise. The honeydew morning an unwelcome surprise.

“Not to me. Come on you big lug, don’t fall asleep at the table.” I stand up on tired and worn out legs, but Alexios doesn’t move. With a pinch on his arm I affirm what I suspected, he managed to fall into an incredibly deep sleep over the course of what can only be a minute. Looking at his strangely serious sleeping face I make the decision.

Lifting him is the easy part, my strength rivals his and he can bench multiple grown men at the same time. Managing not to drop him as I navigate the small house is more of an endeavor.

“Misthios?” A voice asks, and I look over my shoulder in surprise to see Stentor. Dressed not in armor but something far more casual, hair ruffled but still done in the customary braid.

“Do you have work for me or something?” I say back without really thinking about it, “Because otherwise I’m no Misthios to you.” Stentor looks like he just ate dirt, and I laugh. When Alexios stirs in my grip I quiet down.

“You must be awful at it then, a simple contract taking far longer than it should.” He taunts, and I decide to continue walking to Alexios’ room just down the hall. To my surprise Stentor walks along with me.

“You would have been dead if you went.” I say, before dumping Alexios on the bed with slight regard to the impact. When Stentor stays quiet I return to my own room, attempting not to think about the face I saw that just might have been concern.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, this took me a bit to upload. I hope y'all like this and if any of you have fic requests I do complete those. It's sad this fandom has few works.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have never done works in this fandom before so tell me anything you think I may want to know. This story will be updated with shorter chapters so I hope you don't mind that!


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